Irena sat at her new desk and fumed. She'd been at the Trib for three whole weeks now and it was clear that nobody was going to take her seriously as a reporter. She felt sure that the city editor and her father were in cahoots to keep her doing safe stories. The flower show. A tea party for the Junior League. They wouldn't even let her go to the mayor's press conference.

Well, she'd show them. She'd show them all!

She pulled out a mirror from her desk drawer and patted her blonde curls into place. Then she freshened her lipstick and put on her gloves.

"I'm going to that hotel where the murder was," she muttered under her breath. "Maybe I can sweet talk somebody enough to get a real story."